The #Broken_Dagger Forum

Posted: **Mon Apr 23, 2007 12:21 am**

There are whispers in town, this week.

I saw --
I seen --
I heard --
I know someone who knows someone who says his cousin knows that --

Poor goodman Jeunet; he lost his son to the cultists, out at the Pritchites' old place.
That weren't no cultists, Jones. That's what I heard.
Oh, if they weren't, then what were they...? The same things that killed the children in town? The drow?

I dunno. But this can't go on much longer.

Posted: **Tue Apr 24, 2007 12:48 am**

The hubbub is muted, but it's there.

The market streets are laden with whispering.

Something's wrong.
Something's very wrong.
Something's coming.

Posted: **Wed Apr 25, 2007 12:08 pm**

Something was wrong.
Very wrong.

Something indeed.

It had been happening since the night of the Annual Tea Party at the Madame Swinton's. A shop here, another there. Buisnesses and people who had been within Myrken for years. One man for nearly ten. Another for only five. A woman who had been sewing dresses for the last three. A family here and there.

They were packing up, it seemed, uprooting themselves from long standing practices and moving on to better locations. Places more suited to raising a family, said one baker, a resident for as long as anyone could remember. Another, this time a cobbler, was giving away pairs of shoes that he could not take with him and had no urge to pack. He was going to join his brother in Heath, and start an inn or hostle.

A strange thing, that of a sudden such a matter would occur.

But something was in the air.
Something strange.
Something... wrong.

The #Broken_Dagger Forum

Prelude.

Prelude.